What Holly Heard (9 page)

“No, we don't.”

“You're going to sit there with a straight face and say Mei and Noah didn't kill Holly?” Ruth jumped to her feet.
“Come on,
Miriam! Didn't you tell the police anything last night?”

“No!”

Ruth looked incredulous. “Why not?”

“There's no proof.”

Miriam's voice caught on the words. She knew her argument sounded lame. Mei and Noah were guilty. Why couldn't she accept that? They killed
her best friend!

Ruth's hand tightened around Miriam's.

“Mei and Noah are the only two who had a reason to kill Holly,” Ruth whispered. “And you know it!”

Miriam couldn't argue. She
did
know it.

“Holly knew it, too,” Miriam replied after a moment. “And
we
didn't believe her.”

She stared at Ruth in grim silence.

Finally Ruth asked, “What should we do?”

“We can't do anything,” Miriam insisted. “It's not that I don't want to. But we have no proof. The only thing we can tell the police is that Mei and Noah talked about killing her mother. That we heard a
rumor
that they talked about it.”

“You're right,” Ruth said, frowning. “The police will laugh at us if we try to convince them that sweet little Mei Kamata killed her mother
and
her classmate.”

Miriam leaned back against her headboard, exhausted. “If Mei really did it, the police will be able to find out, won't they?”

Ruth didn't answer.

They were quiet for a moment.

“I guess I'll let you get some sleep,” Ruth said. “Let me just give you the homework.”

Miriam watched as Ruth reached for her backpack and dragged it up onto her lap. Ruth unzipped the pack, reached in, and pulled out the top notebook.

It was nearly covered with a reddish-brown, sticky liquid.

Ruth uttered a cry of surprise. She dropped the notebook on Miriam's bed. “What
is
that?”

Miriam's voice was barely a whisper. “Blood?”

Miriam stared at Ruth, and then at the notebook.
Something was scrawled on the cover in blood. Squinting hard, Miriam slowly made out the words.

“What does it say?” Ruth whispered.

“‘We know you know,'” Miriam read, her voice trembling. “‘That's why you die next!'”

R
uth let out a low moan of horror. “Who wrote that?” she cried. “Who put that in my backpack?”

Miriam let the blood-scrawled notebook fall to the floor. The ugly threat repeated in her mind. She shook her head hard, trying to shake away her fear.

“How did it get in my backpack?” Ruth repeated. And then she growled, “Mei.”

“What?” Miriam cried, feeling dazed.

“It was Mei,” Ruth declared. “And Noah. They know that Holly told us what she heard.”

“How could they know that?” Miriam gasped.

“Come on,” Ruth moaned. “The Gossip Queen? They know Holly could never keep her mouth shut.”

Miriam nodded. Ruth was right. Holly hadn't kept her mouth shut.

And Mei and Noah knew it.

“They're serious,” Miriam said. “They're really serious! How can they be so crazy? Killing Mei's mother, then Holly, and now threatening us?”

Miriam threw back the quilt and got out of bed for the first time all day. “We're going to tell the
police.”

“But we know they won't believe us!”

“They will now,” Miriam declared, glancing down at the blood-scrawled notebook. “Come on, Ruth. We have to. If Holly had gone to the police, she might still be alive.”

Miriam remembered bitterly that
she
was the one who had talked Holly out of going to the police. She wasn't going to make that mistake again.

“Are you sure?” Ruth asked.

“I'm sure.” Miriam met Ruth's gaze firmly. This was the strongest she felt since finding Holly's corpse. “Let's tell my mom. She should probably go with us.”

“Okay.” Ruth nodded. “Let's go.”

Miriam returned home two hours later. Her mother drove Ruth home.

What next? Miriam wondered, stepping into the dark house.

The notebook and backpack were in the hands of the Shadyside police. It hadn't been blood after all. Just red paint—the same kind of paint Holly had been using in the gym the night she was killed.

Miriam didn't care. The blood might be fake—but the threat was real.

The police had taken Ruth and her very seriously once they got a look at the notebook. They had no real leads as yet. And the story about Mei and Noah, Mei's mother, and Holly's eavesdropping was an angle they had not known about. They promised to follow up on it immediately.

Going to the police had made Miriam feel a tiny bit better. What would happen now? she wondered. Would they question Mei and Noah? Would they arrest them?

An ugly thought forced its way into Miriam's mind.

What if Mei and Noah come after Ruth and me before the police have a chance to arrest them?

It was such a real possibility that Miriam shivered. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to smooth away the goose bumps.

A car drove by on the street in front of her house. She turned off the living room light and watched it pass.

She didn't recognize it. The car kept right on going.

Don't get completely paranoid,
she warned herself. Then she went to bed.

Miriam lay back on her bed, trying one more time to fall asleep. Instead she found herself picturing Holly. Then Jed. How Jed was there to save her.

Jed.

She missed him. Since his temper had started taking over, Miriam hadn't confided in him the way she used to.

Ruth was her best friend now. But Miriam wanted to talk to Jed. She needed to tell him what was happening.

She hadn't seen him since last night—the most horrible night of her life—in the gym. He had called twice during the day to see how she was doing. He was sweet and caring—acting once again like the old Jed.

Should she call him now? It wasn't too late. She hesitated. Could she trust him to be the caring guy he used to be? Not to fly off the handle?

She picked up the phone.

He answered on the first ring.

“Jed?”

“Miriam? Are you okay?”

“No,” she whispered. She felt the tears coming. All it took was hearing his voice. “I miss you.”

“I'll be right over,” Jed answered quickly.

Miriam tried to reply, but he had hung up.

He was coming.

“Hurry,” she whispered into the dead receiver.

Ten minutes later Jed's Civic screeched to a stop in front of the Maryleses' house. Miriam had dressed quickly. Now she sat hunched on the porch steps, the cold ripping through her. She liked the cold. It reminded her that she was alive.

Jed smiled warmly as he came up the sidewalk, tall and handsome in his Shadyside varsity jacket, like a prince right out of her dreams. Fresh tears filled her eyes even though she'd promised herself she was through crying.

“Jed,” she croaked.

She ran to him, and he took her into his strong arms. She wiped her face against his coat. “I'm sorry,” she sniffed, taking a deep gulp of cold air. “I didn't call you over here to watch me cry. How was practice?”

“Forget practice,” he replied. He guided her to the porch steps, and they sat down. “That's not why you called me.”

“I know.” Miriam took a deep, calming breath. “It's Holly.”

Jed nodded, but he didn't meet her eyes. “I'm sorry, Miriam. I don't know what to say.” He swallowed. “Everyone was talking about her murder at school today. No one could talk about anything else.”

Miriam sighed and leaned against Jed.

“Gary is a total mess. And now everyone is turning Holly into some kind of saint. I just want to forget about the whole thing. But I can't,”

Miriam studied him closely. What did he mean by that last comment? Holding her breath, she waited, hoping her silence would force him to explain.

It didn't.

“I never thanked you for being there for me last night,” she murmured, holding on to his arm.

Jed flashed her a quick smile, but he still didn't meet her gaze. Instead, he stared into the darkness, his jaw muscles clenching.

Miriam opened her mouth, about to tell him everything—about Mei and Noah, the police, the bloody notebook, the scrawled threat.

But his expression made her keep quiet. She'd seen that look in his eyes before. Last Saturday, after he came out of the locker room.

A murderous look.

How could she tell him about Mei and Noah? He'd go berserk.

He'd do something violent. She knew it.

Frowning, Miriam tried to think what had set him off this time. She couldn't stand it any longer.

“Are you all right, Jed?” she asked carefully.

Abruptly he stood. “No. I'm sorry, Miriam, but I don't want to talk about Holly anymore. I'm sick of it.”

He stood above her, suddenly trembling with rage. “She treated Gary like dirt! And she stuck her nose into everyone else's business. Miriam—she was even asking Gary questions about
me.
What did she need to know about me? Huh?
What's wrong with me?”

“Nothing, Jed, I—”

“Holly is dead, Miriam. I know she was your best friend. I'm sorry for you. But I don't feel sorry for her!”

“She was murdered, Jed!” Miriam cried. “Someone strangled her! How can you be so heartless?”

Jed leaned close to Miriam, his breath hot on her face, his eyes cold.

“Because it was all Holly's fault.”

R
age washed away any fear Miriam felt. “Jed!” she gasped. “I can't believe you said that!”

She stood, planting herself directly in front of him, her chin angled up at his shadowed face.
“I
was the one who told Holly to ask about you.”

Jed scowled at her. “What are you saying?” he demanded.

“I
did it. You've been acting like a total crazy person these past few weeks! So angry all the time. Ruining the biggest game of the year. And hurting
me.”

Miriam took a deep breath. “I needed to know, Jed. Holly was doing me a favor. But now she can't tell me what's wrong with you.
You
have to tell me.
What is it?”

Jed's shoulders slumped. He sighed. “Why did you have to do that, Miriam?”

“I care about you, Jed. And if something's wrong, I want to know about it. No matter how bad it is.”

He turned away.

“Jed?”

“What?”

“Tell me. Please.”

But his face had grown hard again. “I've
been
telling you!
Pressure.
My father wants me to get a scholarship. Coach Hurly wants me to practice twenty-four hours a day. The rest of the school expects me to win the championship. What more do you need to hear?”

“Well, maybe if you would talk to me more, I could help you!” Miriam cried.

Jed didn't seem to hear her. He was still pacing, punching his fist into his hand.

“I couldn't take it anymore,” he continued, his eyes wild. “When Holly came asking all her nosy questions, I got mad. What's wrong with
me?
I have a
life,
that's what. I don't have time to stand by my locker and whisper about Mei Kamata's every move. Okay, Miriam? Does that explain it enough?”

Miriam couldn't speak. She had no idea what to say. Finally she replied: “That doesn't explain what you said about Holly. There is no way it was her fault she was killed.”

Jed let out a humorless laugh. “Maybe not.” Miriam saw a muscle twitch in his face. “But you don't
know everything, Miriam. You think you do, but you don't.”

He turned away from her again and stormed down the sidewalk toward his car.